


Embrace

by Heart_Taker



Category: Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six (Video Games)
Genre: #Lion, #Oliver Flament, #TW:Nightmares, #commissions, #femdom imagines, #morning afters, #nightmare, #r6s, #rainbow six siege, #rainbow six siege imagines, #sfw, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-06-30 01:17:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15741183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heart_Taker/pseuds/Heart_Taker
Summary: For @baysian-yinTo see more go tohttps://shes-claws-deep.tumblr.com/I write there with another writer for Rainbow Six and overwatch femdom imagines!





	Embrace

**Author's Note:**

> For @baysian-yin
> 
> To see more go to https://shes-claws-deep.tumblr.com/
> 
> I write there with another writer for Rainbow Six and overwatch femdom imagines!

There’s a familiar pulse thats coursing through his veins, a rush of blood and adrenaline that he greets like an old friend. Neon light bars and strobe flashes flutter and cut through the darkness, and between its dazzling effects he squeezes through the mass of warm bodies, smiling at anyone who makes eye contact with him. Nameless faces that float by without him recognizing a single one. He knows that they all know him though, knows that his reputation always precedes him when it comes to these parties. That's the way it always used to be. 

_Used to be? No, is, isn't it?_

The party feels vague, out of focus as he ponders that question, a feeling like fog clouding his mind as he tries to think clearly. He is in silent reverie, thoughts mixing and incoherent as he struggles through an unseen crowd. He pushes and stumbles until he nearly trips, turning to mouth off at his assailant but they've already disappeared. Shaking his head, he turns around again, and that's when he spots you. 

A vision in scarlet, you’re wrapped in a gorgeous red dress that sparkles in the flashing lights. Olivier stares, unable to tear his eyes away from the flux of movement that you are. He catches your gaze, and freezes for a moment before plastering what he thinks is a cocky grin on his face. It probably looks a little goofy, and just a tad salacious on account of the drugs coursing through his system, but Olivier can’t find it in himself to care. 

He sees you raise a hand, lazily beckoning him to come closer. His feet obey, even if his head still doesn’t fully understand why. He tries to pick his way through the crowd, weaving this way and that, but he is jostled back. Shoulders and hips pushing him around as he steps this way and that, trying to keep you in sight until all of a sudden a broad chest fills his vision, and the big man in front of him blocks his way, forcing him to stumble back. 

Olivier loses his balance, twisting away to stabilise himself. He barely manages to keep his balance, having to turn a full hundred and eighty degrees to change his footing and stop himself from falling. As he gathers himself, the big man walks past him, and glances over his shoulder to look back at Olivier. Olivier catches his eye, and recognition sparks somewhere in the back of his mind. His name is...Grant? Gilbert? Gill? 

The big man casts a exasperated expression over his shoulder at Olivier, before turning and walking brusquely over to his own group of people. Olivier watches him go, his interest piqued, and sees many a familiar face amongst that group of people, but he can’t place a name to a single one. The youngest one, looking barely below thirty, has a beer in hand and a wide smile on his face. He’s chatting amiably with the other man of the group, who looks slightly younger than the hulk walking towards them. The last of their group, the only woman, watches over their conversation with an expression of cheerful disdain. 

When the hulk joins them, however, he says something, and the whole group looks up and locks eyes with Olivier. Their gazes are...empty, vaguely disappointed, and Olivier can’t help but feel that sentiment stab him in the heart. Suddenly, the distance between him and that group feels far longer than it is. A wave of loneliness threatens to drown him and-

Then he feels a warmth on his shoulder, and he turns to see that it’s your hand, pulling him around to look at you. Olivier stands before you, and his eyes start tracing the lines of your body in that gorgeous red dress. You lock eyes, and Olivier feels that wave of loneliness be chased off by a rush of blood southward. He chances a glance back to where the others were, but they’ve disappeared. He tries to look around for them, but your hand on his jaw distracts him, pulling his focus back to you. Olivier stares for a moment, and knowing that you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen chases away the last vestiges of his stupor. 

He flashes you a grin, cheeky, flirtatious and salacious in all the right ways, and he exults in the pulse of joy he feels when you return it. 

The night blurs, and Olivier feels himself dropping deeper and deeper into the blur of his high. He moves, dances, flows around you like a ribbon of silk, dancing in the breeze. His touches are feather-light, respectful and flirtatious ghostings of his fingertips on the inside of your thighs, or a slow drag of his palm down the small of your back. But no matter how many times you smile and push him away, he comes back, enthralled by your presence. 

The lights trace patterns in the air before his eyes, but they do little to distract him from you. He watches the way you move, the bounce of your hair, the flutter of your eyes, the swaying allure of your hips. He chances it, trying again and again to get closer to you, and barely notices how much fun he’s having as he slides in circles around you. 

He finally gets close, feeling your laughter on his collarbone as he wraps his arms around your shoulders. And he’ll never admit it, but his knees feel weak as you pull him close and lean up, your lips ghosting the shell of his ear. 

“You’re fucking crazy for me, aren’t you?” He hears you whisper, and he thinks that maybe, just maybe, he might be. 

Olivier’s breath shudders in your ear as he feels your touch, the light pressure that spreads from your fingertips onto the tops of his thigh. He looks into your eyes, staring into your smiles lines, and every detail of your face that he’s memorized by now. You’re familiar, the warmth in your features feeling like home, but that can’t be possible, can it? You’ve just met tonight, but why does it feel like he’s known you his whole life? 

There’s a tug on his jacket, and he turns to look behind him, but there’s no one there. Then the tug comes again, and this time it’s on the front of his jacket, and he looks down. 

“...Daddy?”

\---

Olivier’s eyes fly open, and the darkness of the room is only a small comfort. He shifts slightly, adjusting his weight on the bed as he glances over to the bedside table. The glow of the digital clock reads 3AM, and he sighs, as quietly as he can. He shifts again, and catches the warmth of your body against his back. 

He turns to look at you, reaching over to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. To him, there is beauty and grace about you, and he feels a tug on the strings of his heart as you snuggle closer to him in your sleep. 

But the ghost of the dream still haunts him. 

He’s used to bad dreams by now, you couldn’t live the life he’s led without the occasional nightmare. So he tried to do what he’s done a hundred times before: just lie awake, staring at the ceiling until these feelings chased themselves away. 

But this wasn’t the deep seated dread or fear that usually accompanied the end of his dreams. This wasn’t the bitter knot of apprehension after having seen one of his teammates go down in a dream, or the feeling of regret as he watched Claire turn his back on him again. 

No, this was an emotion he had never felt before, a sour, bittersweet touch of pining and disappointment that refused to go away, no matter how much he tried to push it down. That feeling bubbled inside him, rising like water in a cauldron as he tried to fight it, but it was a losing battle. Before long he felt tears welling in his eyes, and he tried to blink them away, turning over and away from you as he tried to rub his eyes and stifle a sob. 

The tears stung, burning hot on his cheeks as he tried to cry as quietly as possible. He was so focused on trying to keep his crying quiet that he barely noticed you shifting over in bed, and by the time he had your arms were wrapped around him. 

Your voice in his ear is always welcome, but as you ask him what’s wrong, all he can think about is your voice in his ear in his dream, and everything that came along with it. 

It’s not that the sight of you in his past put him off or anything like that. He’s seen you in many different scenes throughout his life in his dreams. You are a constant, a soothing enigma in his life that he is never sorry to see. No, Olivier knows he’s sad about something else entirely. 

It’s not easy for him to talk about, the role he wished he played in his son’s life, but he knows what he regrets the most, and knows that its so far out of his reach that even in a dream, in the haze of the unknown, he knows that he will never truly be a father to his son. 

And so he sobs, turns over and weeps unabashedly into your embrace. His tears are warm, and stain your clothes and the sheets. He’s always warm, and holding him in your arms under the sheets feels like you’re spooning a space heater. But listening to him try to stifle his sobs and feeling the strength with which he’s using to hold on to you, you would never break away. He’s clutching at you, like you’re his last sane rope tying him to the world, and some days it really must feel like that for him. 

You see it in his eyes, in the way he holds himself when he makes it home some nights. On the nights after missions when the rest of his team has gone out to celebrate, but he’s quietly slunk away from them. Those nights, the way his eyes light up when he walks through the door and sees you is something you wouldn’t give up for the world. 

To him, you are home. 

Later in the night, he’d tell you all about the dream, and all about how he felt about it. His wishes to be a bigger part of his son’s life, and his deep-seated fears about not being as close to the rest of his team as he thinks he should be. He’ll tell you about seeing you in his dreams, and you’ll hear the love and adoration in his voice never waver as he talks about dancing around you. 

But for now, you just hold him as he sobs in your arms. He buries his head in your chest, snuggling as close as he can get, and you press a kiss into the top of his head, feeling him shiver gently as you do. 

“Hush now baby.” He hears you whisper, his fingers stilling at your sides. “Its okay...I got you, you’re here, you’re with me, you’re safe.” 

As your voice and your words start to pierce through the fog of emotion around his mind, Oliviers breath slowly starts to settle. His grip on you is softer now, less of a desperate grab and more of a gentle grasp. He’s stopped sobbing, and his ragged breathing feels incredibly loud in your quiet room, but its a sign that he’s calming down. He looks up at you, and you look into those beautiful green eyes, shiny and glassy from the tears. 

“It’s okay, baby.” He hears you whisper. “I got you where I want you now.”

And in that moment he knows, knows that he’s fallen deep for you. Knows that around you, no matter what this cruel world can throw at him, even the blackest day melts away in your embrace. 


End file.
